No Place Like Home

by Lynda Stacey

  Beth froze, her hand lingered over the kettle and she stared at the floor. ‘Can I come and live at yours?’ she whispered, then looked up with red, tear-filled eyes that pleaded with his. ‘Please Dan, I don’t like it here. In fact, I hate it. I don’t think it’s safe. Someone was here, in the garden, they stole an old carpet and…’ Her bottom lip began to tremble. ‘Or… or… you should come live here, be with us?’ she said with a hopeful smile.

  Dan closed his eyes for a moment, tried to think rationally. He was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. He wanted nothing more than to be here, with the two people he loved most in the world, two people he’d grown close to. But for so many reasons, he couldn’t. Especially after Molly had made it clear that the move had just been for her and for Beth. A new start. A new start that didn’t include him, no matter how much that terrified him.

  Walking through the kitchen and into the utility, he studied the lock, shrugged and shook his head. ‘Moll said she wanted the locks changing, I bought a couple of new ones,’ he shouted loud enough for Beth to hear. ‘Shall I make the coffee while you go get yourself dressed?’ Without waiting for an answer, he went to the kettle, rearranged the mugs, looked through the cupboards, found the coffee and began spooning out the granules.

  ‘Sure, make yourself at home. God knows we did at yours,’ she shouted more cheerily as she went up the stairs. ‘And the lock. I hope you’re fitting it, cause the only drill our Molly knows how to use is the one in people’s mouths and you know how that turns out…’

  Dan smiled, made the coffee and a few minutes later, Beth trotted back down the stairs with her mouth wide open, pretending to be at the dentist, and Dan noticed that the tears had been dried and a light powdering of fresh make-up covered her face.

  Making her way to the counter, Beth pulled herself up to sit on it. ‘Oh, I missed your coffee this morning. It always tastes so much better than mine.’ Taking one of the mugs, she blew the contents and took a long, satisfying slurp.

  Dan smiled. ‘Ah, you’re just gonna miss me making all your dinners, your lunch box, oh and don’t forget your breakfast, supper, snacks. Actually,’ he teased, ‘don’t you think it’s time you learned to cook for yourself?’ He turned to the lock, pulled it from the packet. ‘And yes, I had every intention of fitting the lock. Wanna make sure my two favourite girls are safe now, don’t I?’ He winked and pulled a face at the obstinate packaging.

  Sighing, Beth pursed her lips. ‘Seriously, Dan. You and our Moll, you should get back together, then you could come and live here. That’d be good, wouldn’t it?’ She gave him a hopeful look. ‘I’d feel so much safer.’

  Dan walked to stand by her side, leaned against the unit and bumped shoulders. ‘It isn’t that easy, is it? Me and Molly, well, it’s complicated. Since your mum, too much happened and…’ He gave her an easy smile, cast his eyes around the kitchen, along the hallway and into the living room where he could see the mattress and duvet still on the floor. Padding along the hallway, he glanced up the stairs. ‘Besides, I’ll be around – all the time, you’ll see.’

  14

  Leaning against her grandparents’ porch, Molly held her breath, supressed a nervous giggle and felt for Beth’s hand in the dark. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, she felt the familiar three consecutive squeezes back, the secret code they’d had as children, a way of saying ‘I love you’ or ‘sorry’, a simple gesture that brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Hold on, hold on, I’m coming.’ Their gran’s cheery voice came from within. The bright red farmhouse door flew open and Molly and Beth found themselves pulled into a series of bear hugs and kisses. ‘Oh, my girls, there you are. Now let me look at you.’ Holding each in turn and at arm’s length, Rose looked them up and down. ‘Gorgeous, my gorgeous, sweet girls.’

  For what seemed like the hundredth time, Molly fell back into her gran’s arms, closed her eyes and took in the familiar scent of the floral perfume, a scent that immediately brought back a tidal wave of memories, of similar all-consuming hugs. Standing back, Molly held onto her grandmother’s hands, stared into her eyes. An unspoken apology passed between them, but not before she saw the pain, the worry lines that had appeared on her face, her age that now showed.

  ‘Your grandad,’ she began, ‘he shouldn’t be long. He’s out back checking the sheep.’ She looked nervous, smiled, kept her eyes on the door. ‘You know what he’s like, will keep looking after those darn animals till he’s a hundred and one.’ She gave a short but anxious laugh and held Molly’s gaze, until suddenly Beth threw off her coat, ran across the stone floor and slid onto her knees.

  ‘Oh, my God, you have a new puppy.’ Her voice went up an octave as she held out her arms to the tiny liver and white spaniel that emerged from beneath the long, oak table. Jumping up, he scampered towards her. He was all ears and paws. Each paw trying take a different direction, giving him the look of being all floppy and out of control.

  ‘Well,’ their gran said, ‘he was the runt of the litter, you know what I’m like… the minute I saw him, I just fell in love.’ She laughed, kicked at a pair of muddy wellingtons, then beckoned them into the living kitchen, a room where the whole family mingled. For as long as Molly could remember, life on the farm had always revolved around this huge, warm and homely room with its long farmhouse table. A table that over the years had been used for everything, from the whole family sitting at it to eat Christmas dinner, to the traditional Sunday morning baking fest where they would make cakes and buns to last all week.

  ‘Wow, you still have my favourite settees,’ Molly whispered as she spotted the two identical velour sofas that stood opposite each other, both still piled high with cushions, and a huge inglenook fireplace that dwarfed just about everything else in the room, apart from the Aga, which had to be one of the biggest ovens Molly had ever seen in her life. The only thing that had changed in all the years were the randomly bought rugs, her gran’s charity shop finds, that were scattered all over the quarry tiled floor, and seemed to come in all colours, shapes and sizes.

  ‘Now then, come on, stand up, let me look at you.’ The warmth in her gran’s words came out as a shriek as she spoke to Beth, pulled both her and the puppy into a second all-embracing hold. ‘I’ve missed you so much, my girl, so much.’ She rocked her gently back and forth, kissed her repeatedly on the cheek, looked her up and down and hugged her again. ‘It’s just forever since I last saw you.’ Taking a single step back, she lifted a hand to touch Beth’s cheek, wiped away her tears, then lovingly held her hand there and looked tenderly into her eyes. ‘You look so grown up. How did that happen? One day you’re my little girl and now, now you’re a young woman.’ She paused as the back door sprang open and the cold night air rushed in. ‘Ah, Henry, right on time. Look who’s here.’

  Feeling pensive, Molly watched as her grandfather spun in the doorway, took in the sight, grunted, pulled off the old, waxed jacket and hung it by the door that he purposely held ajar. ‘Come on, Meg. In you come,’ he said as an old black and white sheepdog sauntered in, realised they had visitors and an excited round of welcomes began. ‘So, you finally decided to show your face, did you?’ Her grandfather’s words were slow and deliberate. Then, with thoughtful nods of his head, he stared directly at Molly, then looked down at where Beth had once again taken her position on the floor, her hand hovering cautiously over the puppy, unsure of what to say or how to react.

  Turning away, Molly felt her eyes fill with tears. She wasn’t used to her grandfather’s wrath, saw the renewed pain in her gran’s face and took note that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, not any more. The sparkle that had always been there had gone. She’d grown thin, gaunt and her normal lust for life had disappeared, replaced by the look of hope and gratitude that they’d spared her the time to visit. The difference in her was palpable and Molly felt every part of her ache, knowing she’d contributed in some way to that pain. ‘We’re in touch all the time. We phone, don’t we, Gran?’ she said apo
logetically, knowing that the mediocre explanation just wouldn’t be enough. That her grandfather expected more.

  ‘Oh, you phone, do you?’ Henry arched his eyebrows, pushed off his wellingtons. ‘You’re breaking her damned heart. Don’t you see that? Don’t you think she lost enough, all those years of keeping everyone’s business, your mother’s damn secrets, pretending everything’s okay, when it isn’t?’ He threw the boots at the boot box and pulled off his cap to reveal a fringe of grey hair around his balding, mottled scalp. ‘That house, urgh, it’s been nothing but trouble for years and now, now you’ve gone to live in it, for God’s sake… give… me… strength.’

  ‘Oh, Henry. Please don’t. They’re here now… and, well, I’m ashamed of you, launching straight in.’ She paused, gave him a stern, controlling look. ‘Now, isn’t it time you hugged your girls and showed them some love, rather than that sharp, bitter and twisted old tongue of yours?’

  Again, he stood and stared. Then smiled awkwardly and held out his arms. ‘Of course, you’re right, you always are. Come here, give this silly old man a hug. God knows he could do with one.’

  Dutifully, Molly stepped into his arms, felt them surround her. Felt comfort in his hold and took in the familiar earthy aroma that always came with farm work. ‘I’m so sorry we haven’t been. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, honestly I didn’t.’ She felt the tears that had threatened earlier, suddenly begin to cascade. She was embarrassed, knew her grandfather was right, that there was no excuse. They’d stayed away, hurting everyone. Including themselves. ‘It’s just,’ she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, ‘since Mum, I…’

  ‘I know, I know… as your gran says, you’re here now.’ For a big man, the words were gentle, loving and heart-breaking, all at once. He’d always been there, the one whose knee she’d sat on so very often as a child, the one who’d read to her, hugged her to sleep and in her teenage years had become her very own taxi service, collecting her from nightclubs, when in reality she’d been far too young to go into them.

  ‘I told you we should have been, Moll. Didn’t I?’ Beth growled accusingly, catching Molly’s eye with a glare, the blame within them clear to see. ‘If I could drive, I’d be here every single day. In fact, that new school Molly’s making me go to has a bus that goes right past, so maybe I’ll come on my own, after school, to see the puppy.’ She lay back on the carpet, giggling as the puppy jumped all over her. ‘That’d be okay, wouldn’t it, Gran?’

  Molly’s hand went up to wipe the tears from her grandfather’s eyes, before kissing his cheek. Sighing, she let go and watched as Beth jumped up from the floor and rushed in, childlike, to take her place. Taking a moment, she slid to the floor, sat on the rug, leaned her back against the sofa and began tickling the hyperactive pup that playfully jumped all around her. ‘It’s just…’ She stared at the floor, took in a deep breath, bit down on her lip. She didn’t know where to begin, didn’t know how to explain. She loved her grandparents with all her heart and didn’t want to hurt them but since her mum died, she’d done just that, she’d pushed them away, she’d pushed everyone away.

  She hadn’t been able to get over the idea that her mother had known her murderer. All the evidence had pointed to it. The door had been willingly opened. Two glasses of wine had been poured, ready to drink. A million thoughts and nightmares had whizzed around her mind like a fast-spinning drill and she’d constantly looked at all their friends, their neighbours, and work colleagues. She’d seen them all as suspects. Was it you? Did you do it? Did you take her away from me? Was it an accident? Were you sorry? Did you watch her die, steal her Rolex and if you did, why? She hadn’t known who to trust. Who not to trust. And now, deep down, she knew that to have even considered her own grandparents with those same accusing eyes had been a deep and unnecessary injustice.

  ‘She should be here, shouldn’t she?’ Pushing herself up to perch on the edge of the settee, Molly paused. Her hand went outward to sweep the room until finally it pointed at the fire. ‘She should be in this room, right now, and she’s not and every part of this house reminds me of her,’ Molly finally whispered, feeling her gran sit down beside her and pull her into all-encompassing and loving hug.

  ‘Hey, you remind me of her too. You’re her absolute double. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you,’ Gran whispered with compassionate eyes. ‘And, Moll, she’s…’ The words caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes, puffed her cheeks up and blew out while waiting for the moment to pass, then continued. ‘She’s gone, Moll. And it breaks my heart that she’s gone. But – do you know what feels worse?’ Holding Molly at arm’s length, she raised her eyebrows, gave her a half smile, searched her eyes. ‘What’s worse is that I feel like you’ve gone too, that I didn’t just lose her, I lost you two, too.’ Forcing a smile, she tapped her hand to her heart. ‘Right now, we all need each other, we all need to stay close, look out for each other, right?’

  Molly closed her eyes as she lay in her gran’s arms, which surrounded her like an old, familiar blanket. One that gave love, comfort and warmth and, for once, she didn’t mind being held, rocked and loved like a baby. After what seemed like an age, she opened her eyes, stared into the flames of the log burner, watched them dance and imagined her mother sat there. She was perched beside the hearth, laughing and sipping hot chocolate, with the glow of the fire lighting up her face. It was an image she’d seen at least a thousand times and she smiled wistfully at the memory. ‘Why didn’t we come here, instead of going to the refuge. You know, when Beth’s dad was arrested?’

  Gran sat back, lifted a hand to cup Molly’s face and, with tears in her eyes, shook her head, glanced at Beth and stood up. ‘Now, tell me, have you been eating properly? ’Cause looking at you both, you look much too thin.’ Brushing down her skirt, Gran pressed her lips together as though weighing up the situation, and without waiting for either of them to speak, she continued. ‘I’ve got a big meat and potato pie in the oven. Much too much for the two of us, isn’t there, Henry, and it’ll go to waste if you don’t have some.’ She smiled and walked towards the Aga, as though a piece of her pie would be the best solution for them all.

  ‘There sure would be; you know your gran’s pies, they’re big enough to feed the whole darn village.’ Rubbing his stomach, their grandfather walked to the door. ‘I’ll go and shower, get rid of the smell of sheep before we eat and give you ladies some time to chat.’ He gave them an easy smile, nodded as though satisfied with the situation and left the room, taking Meg with him.

  ‘But… we did stay here, didn’t we?’ Beth suddenly chipped in. ‘I remember you teaching me to ride my bike, and the next day you decided that if I could ride the bike, I could ride a horse and up I went.’ She laughed, her eyes never leaving the puppy, who ran around her in ever decreasing circles.

  Molly felt the breath catch in her throat as she looked up at Gran, knowing that Beth was right. They had stayed here for a while. She just couldn’t remember when. Was it after Beth’s dad had gone into prison, or before, during a time when their mother had been taken to hospital, fighting for her life? A time that both she and Beth had been protected from and a time her gran obviously still didn’t want to talk about.

  ‘Sure. We’d love to stay for dinner, wouldn’t we, Beth?’ She swallowed hard, trying to change the subject as Beth moved to sit beside her on the settee, her whole body as far back into the cushions as she could get, until she looked as though the settee were about to swallow her whole. With her legs curled up beside her, the conversation about staying at the farm forgotten, she giggled as the boisterous puppy stood with its front legs by her knee, its back legs frantically bicycle kicking, in an attempt to climb up and sit beside her.

  ‘Come here, boy,’ Gran shouted. ‘Let’s have you behaving yourself for just a few minutes.’ She patted her leg, tried not to laugh as the puppy hurtled towards her, went far too fast, skidded onto its chin, then jumped up quickly to weave itself around her ankles, its paws reaching
upwards with its head comically disappearing beneath Gran’s long voluminous cotton skirt. ‘And yes, I know, you want feeding too. I didn’t forget.’

  Molly leaned into the settee with a sense of contentment. She’d spent most of her life in this very kitchen, surrounded by dogs, cats, the occasional house rabbit and God only knows how many budgies. It had always been the most welcoming, animal-filled kingdom she’d ever known, and she smiled, knowing that right now this house was exactly what both she and Beth needed, that their visit had been the perfect way to build bridges and to spend time with their down-to-earth grandfather, who said everything just as it was, which was a refreshing change to most people she knew. Then in comparison, there was her more than wonderful, eccentric grandmother, who still dressed and acted like the world’s last remaining hippy and said everything she could to keep the peace.

  ‘And you were cooking that just for the two of you, were you?’ Molly questioned suspiciously as her gran pulled the biggest pie she’d ever seen out of the oven and placed it on a big cast iron trivet in the middle of the table, looking overly proud, just as she had so many times before.

  Staring at the pie and at the depth of the crust, Molly found herself trying to work out how many extra miles she’d have to run the following day to negate all the piled on calories, because where there was pie, there was always a pudding to follow. She sat down at the long oak table, leaned on her elbows and listened to the contagious sound of her sister’s giggling. It was a sound that made Molly realise that one small puppy was bringing her more happiness than Beth had had in months and the guilt tore through her like a sharp but jagged knife.

  Standing up, Molly moved to the dresser, pulled knives and forks from within, picked up a tea towel and started to polish each one before placing it on the table. Staring thoughtfully at her reflection in the last of the knives, her mind flicked back to how she’d met Niall on the beach, to his face that had intrigued and annoyed her in equal quantities. Sighing, she could see his perfect looks, that flawless smile and his man-mountain of a physique that was just about as good as they came. Then, without thinking, she compared him to Dan, who was also a good-looking guy, had kept himself physically fit, had a great body, big muscles and a smile to match. In fact, Dan was what most women would class as the perfect catch, so why didn’t she see it, what was it that had changed so dramatically between them?